


Family in Counting (BatBrats AU)

by jaybird_elliott2020



Category: Batman - All Media Types
Genre: Adoption, All Batfam, Batfamily (DCU), Bruce is a good dad, But Bruce Helped, Depressed Jason Todd, Dick Grayson Has Issues, Everyone has a fucked past, Gay Jason Todd, Hopeful family, Jason Todd Needs A Hug, Mentions of Suicide, Mute Cassandra Cain, NO CAPES, Post-Traumatic Stress Disorder - PTSD, Protective Dick Grayson, Steph has OCD, batbrats, batbros, batfam au, batgirls, good batfam, mentions of eds, therapy sessions
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-05-31
Updated: 2020-05-31
Packaged: 2021-03-02 23:35:33
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence, Major Character Death
Chapters: 9
Words: 9,387
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/24475114
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/jaybird_elliott2020/pseuds/jaybird_elliott2020
Summary: Six children are adopted by the rich and powerful playboy, Bruce Wayne. When Bruce suddenly dies, his eldest son, Richard, is left to look after his five younger siblings and continue the family business.**Batfam AU**originally on Wattpad, but not anymore
Comments: 2
Kudos: 38





	1. Interruptions, Richard?

I was in the middle of fourth period English when my phone rang.

I flicked the phone open and saw Alfred’s name illuminated in blocky letter. My teacher, Mrs. Summers, was glaring at me. I showed her the screen and said:

“It’s my grandad. He wouldn’t call unless it was an emergency.”

Mrs. Summer sighed and dismissed me to the hallway to answer the call.

“Alfred?” I said when I answered. “Alfred what’s the matter? Is everything ok?”

There is shaky breathing on the other end but silence otherwise.

“I need you to pick up Cassie and Damien from school,” he said. His voice was soft and far away and entirely out of character.

“Right now? Why?”

“There’s been an accident and you and your siblings need to come home right away. I’m sending a car to pick up Tim and Steph.”

“Wait Alfred —”

I’m cut off by dial tone.

I rushed back into the classroom and gathered my things, quickly explaining I had a family emergency before darting back out the door.

I swept through the halls and barged into the detention room where Jason was lounging with his feet on the desk, eyes closed. He cracked one open to investigate the disturbance of peace and straightened up when he saw me.

“Dick?” he asked.

“Mr. Wayne is not allow to leave until the bell,” Mr. Oslow said flatly without looking up from his newspaper.

“We have a family emergency,” I said, to both Mr. Oslow and Jason.

Mr. Oslow quirked an eyebrow then shrugged and waved us out of the room. Jason struggled to keep pace with me on the way to my car.

“What’s going on, Dick?” Jason kept asking every couple steps.

“C’mon Dick talk to me!” he finally growled, pulling me back by my backpack strap.

“I don’t know!” I screamed, slapping his hands away.

Jason backed away from me and we walked to the car several feet away from each other.

~ ~ ~

Cassie was running into the front office when Jason and I got there, being chased by a peeved looking teacher. She crashed into me and hid from him behind me.

“Hey! You’re in big trouble missy!” he howled, jabbing his finger around me while Jason pushed him back.

“Hey, buddy,” Jason hissed, “you keep pointing that finger and your gonna lose it.”

The teacher rolled his eyes.

“Oh great, so it’s _all_ the Waynes that can’t keep their hand to themselves,” he barked.

Cassie’s hands tightened on the back of my shirt.

“Listen,” Jason growled, reaching out to grab the teacher by his collar.

“Jason,” I warned.

He turned to me and rolled his eyes, but let the man go.

“Beat it,” he grunted, jabbing his thumb in the direction he had come from.

The teacher did.

Once he was gone, Jason and I signed Cassie out and walked her to the car.

“What was that all about?” I asked.

Cassie didn’t say anything. She looked out the window.

Her left eye was purpling, and her fists were still clenched and she was worrying the spot on her lip she always did when she tried not to have flashbacks.

“Ok, fine,” I snapped. “Don’t talk to me. That’s fine. Just listen: something is going on. I don’t know what it is. Some emergency. Some fucking thing that was bad enough for Alfred to call me during class to come and pick you and Damien up and I don’t know what it is but I’m sure it’s not good and please will you just SAY SOMETHING!”

I could see Cassie flinch in the rearview mirror and I immediately regretted raising my voice. She didn’t say anything though, just clenched her eyes shut.

~ ~ ~

Damien went to a preschool across town because he was too young to start kindergarten and Bruce didn’t think he was being challenged enough at the preschool close to home. Outside there was a red bench with a woman sitting on it watching our little brother scribble with chalk on the pavement. When we parked, she got up to greet us.

“Mr. Wayne?” she asked.

“Dick, not Bruce,” I said. It was habit. We were always getting mistaken for each other, especially since I hit my last growth spurt.

“Yes, your grandfather explained there was a family emergency and you would be coming to pick up Damien,” she relayed.

I nodded.

“How was he today?” I asked.

“He’s getting better at talking to the other kids, but he’s still struggling with eye contact. He also had a tantrum today during lunch when we served green beans. I’m talking full blown screaming and crying every time he even smelled them. I had to take him in the staff room to eat.”

“Yeah,” I replied. “He doesn’t like green beans or marshmallows or anything that’s too dry. He’s a really picky eater. I’m not surprised. Al, feeds him like a little king.”

“I think this is a bit more than that Mr. Wayne,” the woman says. “I’ve worked with a lot of special needs kids in the past and your brother is showing classic signs of autism. You should really talk with your father about getting him tested.”

I furrowed my brow. “I’m sorry?”

“You’re brother—”

“No, I heard you,” I snapped. “I’m just wondering what business you have trying to diagnose my brother. He’s just shy. He’s just a little strong-willed. Nothing else. _Nothing_ else.”

“Mr. Wayne I didn’t mean to offend you but this is not as serious a matter as you’re making it out to be. Your brother would simply benefit from some testing. If he does have autism, it’s better to know early so you can give him the proper accommodations.”

“I-“ I began, but stopped myself. “I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to snap, it’s just there’s a family emergency and I have no idea what’s going on and so many things have happened in the last hour that I feel like I’m drowning a-and—”

The woman cut me off by placing a hand on my shoulder.

“Hey,” she said. “Just breathe, okay? It’s all okay. Just take a deep breath.”

I took a shaky inhale and a shaky exhale before I noticed Damien was staring at me from the ground. I rubbed my face before smiling at him.

“Hey buddy!” I said, crouching down and looking at his chalk drawing. “Whatcha makin’?”

“Makin’,” he said, pushing the chalk into the pavement harder so the lines were darker. The drawing was a triangle on top of a square.

“Makin’ a house?” I prompted.

“House,” he said.

He looked up at me and tilted his head.

“Too early,” he stated. “Not ready yet.”

“Sorry bud, but it’s time to go. We have to get home. Alfred has something he needs to talk to us about.”

“Talk to us about?” he asked.

“Yes.”

He nodded his head and stood up. He handed his chalk to the woman and took my hand.

“Supposed to hold hands on the sidewalk,” he explained. I nodded.

“Bye Damien,” the woman said.

“Bye Ms. Barbara,” he said.

“Bye Mr. Wayne,” she said.

“Bye,” I replied.

~ ~ ~

When we got home, Tim and Steph were putting their school bags up in the foyer and Alfred was standing in the doorway of the parlor. Jason was carrying Damien and Cassie was walking close to me.

All six of us made our way to Alfred slowly and allowed him to usher us into the parlor to sit.

Once we had settled and given Damien his favorite toy to play with Alfred finally spoke.

“There was an accident today at Wayne Tech,” he said.

Jason shifted in his seat and started to play with his hoodie string. Cassie was trembling beside me. Tim and Steph were holding hands and tightening their grip with every word. Your father was there for the monthly meeting with the CFO and Lucius Fox. A test in the lab in the basement of the building did not go as planned and explosives were set off. Structural beams were knocked out of place and more equipment caught fire and more explosives were set off on the upper level. The building collapsed in on itself.”

All of us held our breath.

Alfred’s shoulders dropped and his stoic expression crumbled. His voice wavered with his next few words.

“There were no survivors.”

“Daddy …” Cassie began, before launching herself up and taking off out of the parlor.

We all sat in silence for a moment.

Jason was the next to speak. “I’ll, uh, I’ll go talk to her.”

He left as well, treading slowly up the stairs. I turned to Tim and Steph who were both staring blankly into the rug.

“Are we gonna go back there? Back to the home?” Tim muttered, his entire body wracking with shudders of fear. “I can’t go back. I can’t go back there. I don’t want to leave you guys. I can’t go back.” 

I moved closer to him and put my hand on his shoulder.

“Hey, listen to me,” I said. “I won’t let anybody take you away from us. Dad had plans for us, I just know he did. We’re gonna stay together and I’ll be here.”

Tim let go of Steph’s hand and pushed his face into me, wrapping his arms around my torso with a crushing force. He cried into my shirt. He muttered “please.” Steph used the heel of her hand to bang her forehead, saying “wake up” over and over. Jason’s voice softly encouraging Cassie to unlock her door could be heard in the distance as it grew slightly more panicked. Cassie’s fists colliding with her bedroom wall seemed to vibrate throughout the house. Alfred’s trickle of tears colliding with his pants was like pouring rain on a tin roof.

These are the sounds I remember when I tell myself: Bruce Wayne is dead.


	2. What Now, Jay?

I laid out my suit on my bed. Damien was sleeping on my pillow in a huddle, his thumb in his mouth and a soft, serene look over his face. I slid my fingers against the cuffs of the shirt where Bruce had pinned little _W_ s in. Whenever there was party, all of us would don some form of the family crest, so everyone knew who we belonged to. Dick, Tim, and I all had cuff links, Steph had a necklace, and Cass had earrings. Damien had booties when he was a baby and Bruce was still trying to figure out what to get him for later. He was proud of us, I think. Most of us.

Dick was going places. He was accepted to some school out west on a half academic and half gymnastics scholarship, basically a full ride (not like Bruce couldn’t pay for is and hadn’t tried). He was smart and committed and kind. He wanted to take care of everyone. Protect them.

Tim was a little genius too, he made a mini fridge out of a cardboard box and some chemicals from the garage. He was only eight and he was reading Dick’s AP textbooks for fun. He was strong willed and clever and always managed to get himself out of trouble when it came his way. He would probably end up solving global warming or curing cancer.

Cassie was an amazing ballerina. She spent all her spare time practicing and traipsing around in her pointe shoes. She was even more poised and balanced than Dick (who had been doing gymnastics since he was old enough to walk). She was fierce too. She would go to war for anything and everything she loved at the drop of a hat. And she was the best person to talk to, always.

Steph, she was tough. She stood her ground no matter what and she always did the right thing. She was immensely kind, rivaling only Dick. She wanted to fix everything and perfect the world. I wouldn’t be surprised if she helped Tim solve global warming and/or cure cancer in some way shape or form.

Even five-year-old Damien could make any animal in a ten-mile radius fall in love with him.

I couldn’t even manage to get through first period without getting sent to detention.

Damien stirred on the pillow, rubbing his eyes sleepily.

“Jason?” he mumbled.

“Damien,” I said. I started to undress and put on my suit, but Damien was watching me intently, like he was afraid to come closer. “C’mere little demon.”

I left the buttons of my white shirt undone and picked Damien off my bed. He was small for a five-year-old, kind of skinny and short. He curled into my shoulder easily, resting his cheek into it. I rubbed his back and closed my eyes.

“He’ll take care of us,” I whispered. “I promise. He’s gonna take care of us. Of you.”

I set him back on the bed and he looked up at me curiously.

“Of you?” he asked.

“Yeah,” I mumbled, my fingers struggling to grasp the buttons.

Damien pulled the sleeve of my suit jacket over his head and laughed at himself. He took his head out and played with the seams. His arms gathered the jacket and he laid out on it. He closed his eyes again, letting his breaths even out. As he started to drift off I picked him up again, my shirt buttoned almost all the way. I meant to only move him off the jacket so I could put it on.

I forgot to grab my jacket. Damien held his hands around the back of my neck and made this satisfied sigh. I found myself pressing him closer, holding him tighter. My eyes watered and I smelled the baby shampoo that radiated off of him. Bruce smelled like that after Dami was born. He would always run around with baby powder on his cheek, soap in his hair, or the curved end of a rubber pacifier between his lips.

My entire body ached, like it did when I got sick, like it did when they were treating me. It was a different ache, but so familiar. It consumed me and it hurt me just like before but it destroyed me more and it nested like it wouldn’t leave me.

I just cried and I held him, letting my legs bring us to the floor. He stirred and started to try and push his little body away, but I couldn’t bring myself to let him go. I was so afraid I wouldn’t ever be able to hold him again and that was irrational but I couldn’t fight the reality of it after …

“Jason?” Dick said, running in. He pried Damien away from me and the little boy took off to hide. I didn’t blame him. Dick didn’t go after him, instead, he crouched next to me. “Oh Jay,” he sighed. He put his hand on my cheek, using his thumb to peel away the wet droplets collecting in the corners of my mouth. “Jay, I know, I know.” He cradled my head, pulling me into his chest. The ache came again. I gathered myself before he could pull more tears from me.

“You should go check on Damien,” I said, deadpan.

“Jason—”

“Seriously Dick, just go,” I snapped.

He stood and started for the door. When he was halfway out, he turned back, like he was gonna say something but decided better of it. Instead he told me:

“Alfred’s gonna drive you, Tim and Steph.”

“Ok,” I sighed, wiping my eyes with the heel of my hand. I went out after him and we diverged before he could catch me.

~ ~ ~

Tim cried hardest. Cassie didn’t cry at all. Those looks that we gave each other, that my little brothers and sisters gave me, they didn’t make my stomach sink. The kind words of Ms. Prince, even her hand on my shoulder, was mind numbing but it didn’t break anything inside of me. Clark’s hard look at the coffin did nothing but annoy me. The priest said “good man,” “loving father,” so on and so forth and the pit didn’t knot.

But then, they opened the coffin. Damien was sitting between Cassie and Dick and staring intently at their faces. Cassie’s face was hard and Dick’s was breaking and Damien was straight-faced and confused. We’d tried to explain it to him. I think he understood the idea, but not the idea applied to reality, because his eyes grew big and curious. He got up from the pew and walked up to the casket before anyone could stop him.

“Papa?” he said, trying to peek over the edge to see him. There was a stool by casket for him to use, which he did. He climbed up and everyone watched him. “Papa?” He reached out and started shaking Bruce’s shoulder. “Papa wake up!”

“Cassandra, take Damien outside,” Dick instructed, his eyes completely unfocused and lost.

“Papa wake up! Papa wake up!” And so suddenly, almost like he realized the weight of what was happening, he started to bawl. “Papa? Papa wake up! Wake up!!”

His voice was shrill. It echoed through the church and no one breathed.

Damien was collapsed on the floor, screaming and crying as loud as he could, by the time Cass got to him. She picked him up off the ground and quickly shuffled him outside to calm down.

I turned away, clinging to the sleeve of Dick’s suit to ground myself.

Then, Dick was crying. Not Damien. Dick. His face scrunched up and he lost his breath. His hand clawed mercilessly down his tie, like he was trying to reassure himself, but it didn’t help. His voice drowned out into a hopeless noise and pushed out an incoherent rendition of ‘Dad.”

And I think that little broken cry—the cry of a boy who just realized the only good thing he knew in the world was gone—was what _broke_ me.


	3. Talk to Us Cassie

_Trickle, trickle, tap._

_Trickle, trickle, tap_.

I threw myself out of bed and _thudded_ down the hall. The noise _echoed_ loudly through the dark and quiet manor. Whenever I was angry I would lead with my heel and _huff_. Dad did it too.

I _slammed_ the bathroom door open—the one between Dick and Jason’s room—and marched up to the faucet that was just barely on. Dick did that sometimes when he couldn’t sleep, he would let the faucet go softly all night. It just annoyed me. I _smacked_ the handle and the _trickle, trickle, tap_ ing stopped. Suddenly the door that lead to Dick’s bedroom _swooshed_ open.

I flinched away from the noise and grabbed my ear as Dick _roared:_

_“ **Let it be Jason!** ”_

His face was red and his jaw was set, but when he saw me standing there, he shook his head and _mumbled_ an apology.

“ _I thought you were Jay. Just turn the faucet back on. I need to go back to sleep_.”

I shook my head ‘no’ and held my hand over the handle.

“ ** _Cassie, I can’t do this with you right now. Please, just turn the faucet back on , I need to go back to sleep_.**”

Again I shook my head ‘no.’ Dick marched forward. He did the thing with his heels too.

He reached for the handle but I swatted him away. His face turned red again and he bent over and threw me onto his shoulder. I opened my mouth to _scream_ at him, but stopped myself. Instead I pounded on my brother’s back and tried to pry his arms from my waist.

“ ** _Stop_** _!_ ” he _roared_ , throwing me back into my bedroom. “ ** _Stop! I need to go to sleep, Cassandra!!_** ”

I pulled myself off the floor and raised my finger at him, meaning to look threatening. He disarmed me with a shaky hand holding his eyes. His lips wavered, whitening and wrinkling.

“ _I need to go to sleep,_ ” he muttered. His shoulder pressed into the door frame, a swallowed sob wracking his body. I stood with my hands stiff by my sides. “ _I just … I need to go to sleep. To … to sleep. And the only way I can think of going is hearing his voice again. Hearing him tell me that is was just a nightmare … t-to sleep._ ”

My fingers twitched loose from my own grip and I reached for Dick’s hand. When our nerve endings sensed each other, he jumped back.

“ _Go to bed Cassie_ ,” he instructed, turning down the hall. I darted to my doorway and watched him vanish into his room. The noise has woken everyone else in the house, Damien included. He was wailing loudly for Dad. Crying _Papa_ so loud it made me want to disappear into the floor and never come back.

Jason was walking down the hall towards Damien’s room when he saw me sinking into the door frame.

“Cassie?” he signed. “You ok?”

I shook my head.

He looked panicked for a moment, but he told me to stay right there and he took off down the hall.

What felt like an eternity later he returned. The wailing was still loud, getting louder, but I could hear Alfred’s smooth, sweet voice humming underneath it. Jason must have gotten Alfred to calm Damien.

“Too loud?” he asked.

I nodded.

“Ok, remember what Dad used to tell you? When the noises get too loud?” he asked.

I nodded.

“Alright, then lets do that.”

We slowly make our way to my bed. I laid face down in the duvet and buried myself in a cocoon of blankets.

“You want to say the words? Or do you want me to?” he asked.

I pointed to him. He nodded his head and sat at the foot of my bed.

“ _Here goes:”_ he began. I closed my eyes. “ _You are safe. No one is going to hurt you here. This is your room. This is your bed. These are your blankets and this is safe. You are safe. Yeah? Safe. Can you say it?_ ”

“ ** _Safe_** ,” I said, shuddering at my own sound.

“Good job,” Jason signed.

“Thank you,” I replied.

“No problem.”

He stayed at the foot of my bed. He had that concerned look on his face, the one Dick used to get when I was younger.

“This isn’t the time to shut us out,” he told me. “You don’t have to talk to us—I mean that you really don’t but you have to stay with us. Dick needs our help.”

I nodded.

He stood. “Ok, I’m gonna go to bed. You should sleep.”

I jolted up and grabbed him by the shirt before he could leave.

“What?” he asked.

I let him go and sat back in my bed, patting the empty space beside me.

“Just in case,” I signed.

Jason smiled. “Just in case.”


	4. Time for Normal Timmy!

Damien was having a tantrum before breakfast while Jason was trying to dress him. He was mostly naked, kicking his feet in the air and wailing so Jason forfeited his responsibilities to Dick—who looked like he got in a tickle fight with Edward Scissorhands. Cass was making Steph and me cereal, watching Damien and Dick fight for control.

“I DON’T WANNA!” Damien screamed while Dick wrestled him into his pants.

“I don’t care!” Dick barked back. Damien wriggled and tried to push his pants down again.

“I don’t like it! I don’t like it!” he cried.

“DAMIEN!” Dick screamed. “STOP THAT!!”

Damien only cried harder, reduced to a puddle of tears and a shrill rendition of “NO, NO, NO, NO, NOOO!”

Dick kept himself together for the most part and finished dressing him around the flailing and jerking. When he was done Damien scrambled away to hide.

“Jason,” Dick said, “go find him and put him in the car.”

“Why? He doesn’t like me,” Jason grumbled, standing anyway.

“Because if I do it I might just kill him,” Dick deadpanned, pouring coffee into a mug. “Cassie did you pack the little kids lunches?”

Cass signed in reply. “Alfred.”

“Why did he do it? I asked _you_ to,” he hissed, tossing back half a mug of coffee in one swig. “Oh God, how old is that? Bleck.”

I laughed at him.

“Something funny you little shit?” Dick hissed. Cass narrowed her eyes at him. “Get in the car.”

I hopped off my breakfast perch, my cereal soggy and untouched, and followed Steph to the foyer to retrieve our backpacks.

“He’s in a mood,” I said.

“He’s _always_ in a mood Timothy,” Steph grumbled in reply.

“It’s different today _Stephanie_ ,” I mocked.

“I guess.”

“Do you think it’s because—”

“Don’t, Tim.”

“What? I was just gonna say—”  
  


“What, Tim? What? How it’s probably because Daddy’s birthday’s in a few days? Or how Dick had to drop out of school, give up his dream college and career so we wouldn’t have to go back to that _place_? Or maybe you were going to regale me with some theory about how he hasn’t been sleeping well these past few months, that’s why he’s so grouchy? Don’t. Just don’t.”

She marched to the minivan and climbed in next to Damien without me.

~ ~ ~

Stephanie was two years older than me. She went to a private middle school adjacent to the elementary now only I attended. Dick still called us the little kids. I was in the fifth grade and did his homework for him when he was barely staying away at his desk. He called me “little kid.”

“Jay, walk Tim in?” Dick said, parking in between the middle and elementary parking lots. “I need to talk to Ms. Sally about pulling Steph early on Tuesdays.”

“Kay,” Jason muttered, shuffling behind me in the direction of the double doors.

“I don’t need someone to babysit me on e walk to a heavily secure school,” I said with a huff once we were out of Dick’s earshot.

“Shut up Tim. It’s either this or another morning screaming match in the parking lot of a heavily secure school,” Jason said.

I pulled down my polo and dragged my feet just enough so I was walking next to Jason.

“Is he okay?” I asked.

“No, Tim. But I don’t think any of us are,” he said.

“You seem okay,” I pointed out. I watched him while we walked, trusting him to guide me.

“Ya think?” Jason chuckled.

“I mean, you’re annoying and mean but when aren’t you.”

We both laughed.

When we got to the door, we both stop. Jason let a hand fall to my shoulder and pulled me into his hip. I had grown enough over summer that my face ducked just below his chest. I wrapped my hands around his sharp hipbones and squeezed tightly.

“We’re gonna be fine,” Jason assured me, patting my head. I think that was more for him than for me, but it was still nice to hear someone who understood say that.

He pushed me off him—though his fingers barely lingered on my shoulder for a second—and shoved me toward the door. I rolled me eyes but went off to class.

~ ~ ~

I was in the same class as my friends, Conner and Megan, again. We sat at different groups but close enough we could turn in our seats and talk. They were both a year older than me (everyone in that class was) and only knew I existed because they were friends with Steph first, but we ended up being good enough friends. Conner had been at Dad’s funeral in May with his dad, Clark, and little brother, Jon. Nobody had told Megan yet.

“Tim?!” Megan squealed, beaming when I sat behind her. She threw her arms around me. “What are you doing here? I thought you were going to skip another grade!”

“I though so too,” Conner said, quirking an eyebrow at me.

I swallowed the lump in my throat and shook my head. “Nah … me and Dick decided it would be … better if I didn’t.”

“What? Why? Didn’t your dad sign off on it already?” Megan pressed on.

It wasn’t her fault. No one had told her. Mostly because she would look at me the way Conner was looking at me right now as he put the pieces together. All of my siblings already treated me like I was a glass doll, I really didn’t want to add Megan to that ever growing list. Hearing someone talk about Dad though …

“How about you mind your beeswax Megan!” I yelled. “What do you car what grade I’m in?!”

Conner turned away from us so he was facing the board. Megan’s jaw went slack and then tightened like she was going to say something, but she didn’t.

~ ~ ~

I didn’t sit with them at lunch and I avoided them during PE and I made sure I was the first one out the door after school. I was in the homestretch. The van was parked in the parking lot and I had already cleared the car loop crossing.

Conner was the one who caught me.

“Nobody wants to tell her!” he called out, just before catching up with me.

“Dick’s waiting for me. We have to pick Dami up before four and he’s in a mood,” I deadpanned and walked faster.

“She should hear it from you, Tim. You can’t avoid telling her forever,” he said, stopping me by grabbing my arm. I shook him off.

“I don’t need your pity Conner! Just leave me alone!!” I screamed, running too the car.

“Tim! Tim!” Conner was calling after me. His feet were heavy on the pavement as he tried to catch up with me again. Dick sped off before he cleared the elementary parking lot.


	5. Stephanie Wayne, Stephanie Wayne, Stephanie Wayne

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> TW: Intrusive thoughts

_One, two three. Just one foot in front of the other. Put your boot on the edge of that box then that one. DON’T STEP ON THE CRACK THERE! Good. Good. Oh look, your door. Your first period class. Math. You like Math. Consistency. Rules. Order. None of that since April. Since … no, no just sit down. None of that today, none of that._

“Steph?” _Jay?_ “Uh, you forgot your lunch. Dick asked me to run it in.”

_He’s got that look. That_ Dick _look. You hate that look._

“Ok,” _you struggled that one out, can’t you just suck it up?_ “Thanks.” _Better._

_He’s smiling at you. Ok. Now he’s leafing. Oh no. Now everyone’s looking at you. What do you do what do you do what do you do? Calm down, Stephanie. You’re a Wayne, you can get through a few people staring. You got through the_ Bruce Wayne is Dead _tabloids, you can get through this. Ok?_

~ ~ ~

_Lunch. Ok. You can do this. Green beans and white rice and Alf’s famous biscuits. It’s still warm. Wait. Everyone’s looking at you. Everyone’s looking. Everyone. You can’t eat that. They’re all gonna watch you. You can’t. You have to eat. Dick will be upset if you don’t and then he might leave. You should eat. But everyone is watching. Everyone is watching you._

_No. Pick your head. You can do this. You can do this._

_You can’t do this._

_Maybe Alfred can homeschool you. That’s ok right? Bruce was homeschooled after his parents died. It might be nice. Tim might come with you too. Then he’ll get to take those algebra classes like he’s been wanting to do for forever. But what if he doesn’t and then you’re all alone. All alone. All alone._

_Where’s Dick? Is he ok? Is he safe at work? You should be with him or at home with Alfred. Just in case. Just in case. Just in case._

“Dick?” _You big baby_. “Can you come get me? Please.” _Oh, stop crying. You big baby. Big, big baby._

_Uh-oh. He made the noise. The noise like he’s mad. Don’t let him be mad at you. You cannot lose him. ABORT. ABORT. ABORT._

“Stephanie Wayne. I am at work. I have to work.”

“Dick.” _Sniffling? Crying? You baby._

_He’s breaking! You manipulative shit! He’s gonna find out you manipulated him and he’ll never talk to you again. You’re gonna be alone. ALONE ALONE ALONE ALONE ALONE ALONE—_

“Alfred. Can I send Alfred? I really can’t leave until three. Maybe three thirty. Even then I have to come back. I’m gonna send Alf, but this is your _one_ from me, Steph. Your _one_. Do you understand?”

_Stupid say yes don’t nod. You’re on the phone._

“Yes.”

_Do the button when you hang up. No not once. Three, three, three. Good job. Rubber band? Seriously. That hurt. Ok though. Feel better. Alfred’s coming for you. It’s gonna be ok. You won’t be alone. Just a few more minutes. Don’t think about it too much._

_LOOK, ALFRED! Oh thank God, home. Home. Bed. Safe._

_Shit. That’s Jason. Not Alfred. Why? Jason does that think with his face and he doesn’t like you. He hates you. He’ll kill you. Kill him first? STOP WITH THE RUBBER BAND!! Walk the other way. Just go back to class and suck it up until Dick can come get you. You’ll be fine. Shit. He saw you didn’t he? HE saw you and now you have to get in the car and drive home with him. Just … get it over with. Don’t die._

“Hey kiddo.”

“Jason.”

_Perfect Stephanie. You keep doing that. He definitely won’t be asking questions now._

“You good?” _HA!_

“I thought Alfred was picking me up s’all.” _Liar, liar pants on fire. You’re gonna be alone when he figures out you lied. Liar._

“Oh. He was going to, but I came home and he was busy getting Goldie’s dinner party ready. I volunteered to pick ya up. That’s ok, right?”

_No. You were told Alfred. Alfred. Not Jason. Alfred._

“Right.”

“Good. We’re gonna get the Demon Spawn too. Figure if Dickie’s only gotta do the one run he’ll be a happier camper. What’da’ya think?”

“Smart.”

“Oh! You know we could go for ice cream after we get Dami! My treat. Don’t tell Tim though because he’ll just get all moody that I didn’t take ‘im too.”

_STOP! Don’t let him change plans. You’re supposed to go home. Go home!_

“Ok Jay.” _WILL YOU CUT IT OUT! THAT RUBBER BAND HURTS!_

“Are you sure you’re okay munchkin?”

“I’m fine Jay. Stop calling me names.”

“Sorry. Just makin’ sure. Ya know it’s ok if you aren’t. It’s ok to—”

“To be upset that Daddy’s gone and he’s never comin’ back? Don’t you think I’ve heard that enough from my therapist. And Dick. And my teachers. And everyone else who just thinks I’m one wrong breath away from breaking like a porcelain tea cup?”

“Yeah. I mean you’re gonna get better, Steph. Things aren’t gonna be this bad forever.”

“Do you actually believe that Jason? Because you sound like a fucking Hallmark card.”

“I’m saying it because it’s true, Steph. It will get better.”

“Are you better Jay? Do you actually, truly, 100% feel better?”

“…”

“Uh-huh. See. You preach about how we’re gonna get better, things will go back, like Daddy’s not really gone. You’re the worst of us, Jason. You’ve spent the past four months convincing yourself nothing’s changed when literally the world can _never_ be the same again. Stop trying to take us all down with you.”

_Maybe that was a bit harsh. Do you think that was a bit harsh? Maybe. Just a tad. He might never talk to you again. Like, Stephanie Wayne, Stephanie Wayne, Stephanie Wayne! What were you thinking! You’ll be alone forever._

“What do you know. You’re just a stupid little girl.”

_Forget it. Don’t feel bad. Jason’s an asshole. Let him have it._

“AHHHHHHHHHHHH!”

_Look, it’s working. He’s covering his ears._

“Not a not a not a stupid kid. Understand understand understand? Lost my lost my lost my daddy too, my my my daddy too. You don’t you don’t you don’t get to yell at me. Not today. I am I am I am supposed to be better be better be better today.

_He’s stopping the look. Now he’s stopping. Stopping, stopping, stopping._

“You made you made you made the tic come back, asshole asshole asshole.”

“Sorry. I’m sorry.”

_Say it again. That was only twice. Correct him CORRECT HIM CORRECT HIM!!!_

I shake my head and hold my ears. There are so many voices and noises meddling together in my head and I can’t focus on Jason talking.

“Stephanie?”

_Stephanie Wayne Stephanie Wayne Stephanie Wayne._

_Orphan. Baby doll. Stupid lonely girl. You better reply in threes._

“Go away go away go away.”


	6. Therapy's a Bitch Jason Peter Wayne

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> TW: Discussion of suicide, suicidal thoughts, and depression

“Jason, I need you ready in ten minutes. You aren’t missing another appointment with Dr. William,” Dick said from my doorway.

I made a noise in reply, pulling my covers over my head. He marched over and yanked them to the floor jumping on top of me.

“Wake up. Or you can just go in pajamas.”

“Is that actually an option?” I asked.

“Get. Up. I have places to be other than fighting your sorry ass into therapy appointments that you’re supposed to be responsible enough to go to _by yourself_.”

“I am responsible enough. I just don’t _want_ to. Therapy is stupid. This whole thing is stupid because I’m fine.”

“Court ordered. Cassandra has to go, Stephanie had to go, Tim has to go, _you_ have to go. Move it.”

I slumped out of bed and stripped naked as Dick left. Digging through my drawers I let my head fog up in the pre-coffee, post-wakefulness glaze so I could—just for a second—remember Bruce’s voice. Suddenly I couldn’t remember anything. I couldn’t remember the way he said my name before bed when Dick and I were young, what color his eyes were (despite looking at them every day for nine years), how he walked, what his favorite color was: all the little things I couldn’t tell you _before_ I suddenly could _never_ tell you.

I put my boxers on then the glaze came back, taking over my whole body.

When I was aware I was in my room again, I have slid into jean and a hoodie and had my boots in my hands.

“JASON! GET THE LEAD OUT!”

I jumped. The curtain between my room and the rest of the world was ripped clean off.

~ ~ ~

“How are you doing today Jason?” Dr. William asked.

“Just peachy Doc,” I said with the biggest fake smile I could muster.

“Would you like to talk about your first week back to school?”

“Nope.”

“How about the comment you made to your brother?’

“Nope.”

“So what? Are we just gonna sit here and look at each other for the rest of the hour?”

“Yep.”

“There isn’t anything you want to talk about.”

I shook my head and folded my arm.

“I don’t want to talk about anything. I’m fine. I don’t need therapy. The only reason I’m here is because I have to be.”

“Do you believe that Jason? You don’t think that at least some part of you wants to talk? You seem like a very intelligent young and you’re certainly strong willed, I find it hard to believe someone could convince you to do anything you didn’t want to.”

“You’re right. Can I go?”

“Sure. But then we’ have to make up the hours.”

I sighed and suck further into the couch.

“So Jason, why _are_ you here?”

“Because I want my family to stay together. Because I don’t want to go back in the system. Because my little brothers and sisters deserve someone looking after them. Someone who actually cares.”

“And you’re the one who cares?”

“Sure. I mean I’d go to war for the little shits. Don’t tell them I said that.”

“Everything you say here is completely confidential.”

“Cool.”

“What about your older brother, Dick? He’s their legal guardian. He’s _your_ legal guardian.”

“Yeah, but he’s … he’s busy. Damien’s having trouble. The company wants all his attention. Cass isn’t talking anymore. Tim isn’t eating. Steph’s tics are back. He can’t be everywhere at once.”

“Pardon the cliché, but how does that make you feel Jason? Your brother taking on all of your father’s responsibilities?”

“I don’t know. Sad I guess? Like, he was supposed to be across the country and growing up and living his life not stuck in Gotham taking care of us and slowly killing himself.”

“Do you think he resents this new role he’s been given as head of the family?”

“I don’t know. Maybe? It’s hard to tell. He doesn’t really give himself much time to think. If I had to guess I’d say he’s just sad he lost his dad. We lost our dad.”

There was a beat of silence. Dr. William was waiting for me to continue.

“It’s hard to explain,” I finally said.

“Try me.”

I leaned forward on the couch, so my elbows dug into my knees and folded my hands together tightly.

“Do you remember what your _first_ feeling of belonging was? Because I do. I remember because it happened when I was seven years old, after my mom died and my dad left me to fend for myself. Bruce found me trying to boost the tires off his car. He fed me. He told me everything was going to be ok. And I didn’t believe him because nothing in my life had ever been ok, but it was. Imagine that. Losing the love of the first person who made your world safe. The man who raised you, sang to you, held you when you had nightmares, promised you the world. Imagine, Doc, imagine you feel belonging and love and then someone takes it from you.”

I took a shaky breath before continuing.

“It feels like dying all over again. It feels like knowing you aren’t going to be around long enough to see Damien walk or talk or grow up. Never see Cassie dance again. Never know what amazing things Tim and Steph do for the world. It’s like feeling every possibility of your future strangle you.”

I wiped my eyes quickly.

“Do these thoughts ever—”

“Make me wanna kill myself? No. I don’t think Dick could deal.” I tried to cut my words with a chuckle, but Dr. William didn’t acknowledge it, just powered forward.

“So the only reason you wouldn’t commit suicide is so you won’t upset your brother?”

“That’s not what I meant.”

“Jason, how about we talk about the comment you made to your brother, Tim, earlier this week.”

“Why? You’ve already decided what you want about me. I’m not giving you anymore fuel for the fire you’re about to light under my ass.”

“Jason, is that really why you think we’re here?”

“Yes.”

“We are here because your father died just four months ago, and you don’t seem too bothered by it. Everyone in your family is concerned for you. That’s why you’re here.”

“I can’t just spend all my time moaning and getting all sad about Bruce dying! It was an accident, it fucking sucks, so fucking much, but accidents happen. It was a shit hand that God dealt us, but I think we can manage on our own. Can I go now?”

“We still have a half hour left.”

I leaned back and looked out the window.

“I don’t want to talk about this anymore.”

“Ok, we can talk about anything else. Anything you’d like.”

“Uh … I read a good book?”

“Interesting. Tell me about it.”

“Ok …”

I spent the rest of the time talking about the Mary Oliver poems I picked up in the school library, the ones I’d read in one sitting last Saturday and Dr. William let me.


	7. The Misfortunes of Children/Cassie’s Nightmare Threads

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> TW: Past trauma

I’m alone.

Then I’m not.

Then the cycle repeat.

Father is on the other side of the door, shuffling papers and chatting and dealing. I’m alone.

Your father is supposed to protect you. Mine used me.

I’m alone.

I want to die. I want to die.

I can’t die. Then I won’t make him money. He won’t love me.

I want to be loved.

He leaves me. Just vanishes.

I’m alone.

The police find me.

Bruce tucks me into bed, and I’m safe.

I’m safe again.

But then …

Now I’m alone.


	8. Homework, ft. Timothy Drake-Wayne

Dick and Cass were drinking in the kitchen. Dick had something form Dad’s cellar and Cass something from the fridge. They were arguing playfully.

“That’s stupid. She’s stupid,” Dick mumbled, taking three big gulps from his mug.

“She’s not stupid, Dick, you’re stupid,” Cassie said, aloud. She giggled, the sound hallow in her glass.

“ _I_ don’t think I did anything wrong,” Dick argued.

“Of course you don’t. How could Dick Wayne do _anything_ wrong.”

“Shut up. I really don’t see why she made such a big deal about this whole thing.”

“She thinks you’re abandoning her, Dick. This isn’t something tha-that’s as simply explained as all your other fights. Kori has right to be upset.”

“You suck.”

“Because I’m r-right, asshole,” Cass shot. She laughed again. I remember her voice being smooth like caramel over chocolate it just melted on your tongue and you always wanted more. She had such a beautiful voice.

“I know,” Dick sighed.

“So are you gonna make up with her o-or what?”

“Do I have a choice?”

“Not really. I’m pretty sure that Jay and Roy would kick your ass if you left things the way they are.”

“Fine, fine! I’ll talk to her about it tomorrow.”

Cassie shook her head and smiled fondly.

She caught me standing in the doorway.

“Yo-you little shit! Were you eavesdropping?” she hissed.

She slammed her glass on the counter and marched over to me. I took off in the opposite direction. I could hear her gaining on my, her frustrated grunt as he flew up the stairs.

We were running down the most “Wayne” hallway in the house and Cassie had neatly caught her hand around the collar of my shirt. I could hear her. When she’s angry (and unaware) she leads with her heels. It wakes Damien up and culls Jason and Dad out of a screaming match in the study. We hit the end of the hall and she slammed me into the wall.

“You l-little shit, why are you spying?!” she screamed. My hear was pounding in my ears, but I could hear Dad doing the thing with his heels now too. He came up behind her and jerked her away from me.

“ENOUGH!!” he bellowed. Jason flinched and wrapped his arms tighter around his stomach. “ENOUGH OF THIS FIGHTING! Every goddamned time I turn around one of you is at each other’s throat! You’re supposed to be looking out for each other. Cassandra you’re Tim’s big sister—”

“We are _n-not_ related,” Cassie hissed.

I suddenly became very fascinated with my feet.

“Cassandra,” Dad began, his teeth bared. “Go to your room.”

Cass rolled her eyes and stormed off to her room.

Dad directed his attention back to me and sighed.

“Son,” he said. He rested his hand on my shoulder and sighed. “Will you do me a _huge_ favor?”

“O-ok?” I said.

“Stop eavesdropping on your sister and this won’t happen anymore.”

“Bu—”

“Tim,” he warned. I dropped my chin and nodded.

Dad turned away from me, whisper-yelled something at Jason and then vanished into his study. Jason and I looked at each other for a few seconds before he left too. I looked after him, wondering why Dad was always so upset with him or upset about him or why he was always more concerned with Cass or Steph or Dick or _someone else_ other than me. It had only gotten worse after Damien was born. Now it was all about them, all about what _they_ wanted, what _they_ needed.

~ ~ ~

The last time I saw my dad, I was crying.

It was a few days after Cassandra had chased me down the Wayne hallway and Damien was throwing a fit about something or other on the kitchen floor. Dad was breathing heavily at the ground, bracing himself on the countertop. Alfred looked amused. Dick was mumbling about the noise an Jason was screaming “BRUCE YOU NEVER LET ME DO ANYTHING!”

He snapped.

“You know what??” he screamed, throwing his hands in the air. “I’M GOING TO BED! You five can work this out amongst yourselves!!”

Then he marched upstairs with a bottle of bourbon tucked under his arm.

For a second all of them looked at each other.

“Why do you always yell at each other?” I asked, setting a cup of Jell-O on the counter. Dick swung around and narrowed his eyes at me.

“The fuck do you know pipsqueak? All _you_ do all day is sit around in your room and do math problems. Shut up.”

“I-I …” My tongue felt soupy in my mouth. “I HATE YOU ALL.”

I threw my Jell-O at no one in particular, but Steph told me that it hit Damien.

Following Dad’s lead, I marched up the stairs and ran into his study. He was sitting in his chair, the bottle on the desk on top of his files. He looked up, eyes narrowed and jaw set.

“I thought I said I wasn’t going to deal with it. Tim, to your room.”

“NO!” I screamed, angry tears streaming down my cheeks.

“Excuse me?”

“NO! I HATE YOU TOO! YOU DON’T LISTEN WHEN I TALK, THAT IT’S NOT MY FAULT YOU ALWAYS TAKE THEIR SIDE! I CAN’T DO EVERYTHING; I CAN’T DO EVERYTHING JUST BECAUSE I’M GOOD AT SCHOOL!! STOP TREATING ME LIKE I DON’T NEED YOU!!”

Bruce Wayne had salt and pepper hair and a scratchy beard then. He looked old, worn out. Sometimes I forgot that the reason we lived in such a large house was because Bruce ran a company. He shifted in his seat and set his head in his hands.

“I’m sorry buddy,” he murmured, shaking his head.

My shoulders dropped and I pulled myself closer to him, eventually ending up on the same side of the desk as him. He looked up at me and smiled.

“I really am sorry,” he said. I nodded.

“I-it’s ok. I’m fine, Dad, I’m ok.”

He shook his head and pressed his lips together hard enough to made his cheeks tighten and the corners of his lips to creep towards his jawline. His forehead went forward and fell into his folded arms on his desk.

“I’m sorry, kiddo,” he said, voice cracking. I shook my head and reach my hand out.

“Daddy? I-I’m ok.”

He kept saying it though.

“I’m sorry. I’m sorry. I’m sorry. I’m sorry.”

I leaned into him and let him wrap his arms around my torso.

“I’ve had a long day, Tim. I’m sorry.”

“It’s ok, I forgive you, Daddy.”

He brought me closer to him, shaking.

“How about tomorrow me and you go to the science museum, play a little hooky, huh? How does that sound?”

I smiled and nodded my head, sinking into his hug.

“I like that.”

“Alright. See Timmy, everything’s gonna be alright.”

Of course, we all know how this lie ended.


	9. Jason's Secret

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> TW: bullying, traumatic experience with loved one, blood, homophobia

After Dad died, you could tell nothing was the same anymore. Mostly, you could see it in Dick. He wasn’t Dick anymore. He wasn’t a lively bubble of playfulness. He didn’t smile or laugh as much anymore and he’s short tempered and hardly talks to any of us. It felt like the entire world was collapsing. First Bruce, then Dick … then Mack Derry.

~ ~ ~

9PM, Wayne Manor just following dinner (a square table meal Alfred prepared and made sur all Wayne children attended daily). Dick had retreated to his bedroom to finish papers he needed to present to the board tomorrow. Cassie and Damien had fallen asleep on the couch in the den watching _Frozen_ the third time. Tim was with them—however still awake and channel surfing then late-night shows. Stephanie was doing “triples” in the hallway, counting her steps on the artisan rug and bouncing between Tim’s room at the one end of the hall and Cassie’s at the other.

I sat in my bed with my sheets gathered around my lower half, shaking and naked. I had missed dinner and Alfred didn’t know I was home yet. I don’t think anyone really knew I was home. I was planning on getting into the shower and cleaning myself up before I let any of them see me, but I only made it as far as taking off my clothes. I tried to place my hands on the purpling bruises along my ribcage. Mack Derry and Shawn Preston’s Nikes were embellished everywhere. The ghost of Mack Derry’s lips bit harder than the bruised ribs though. And his voice. Mack Derry’s course, sweet cadence:

“ _Fag, fag, fag, fag, fag, fag, fag, fag, fag, fag, fag, fag, fag, fag.”_

Why? I stayed in my world, in my small pocket of Gotham Academy and I didn’t bother anyone. Sure I beat the shit out of the occasional kid who shit-talked my family, but beyond that I never stepped on anyone’s toes. And Mack Derry … Mack Derry. I thought I was in love. I kissed Mack Derry, I had him for lunch to meet Alfred, I thought about introducing him to Dad. Mack Derry said once while kissing me:

“I think I love you Jay.”

I laughed at him, but my heart swelled so much that I could hardly breathe. Now I had that same feeling again, and it was still because of Mack Derry, but now there were salty tears on my cheeks and a little blood in my mouth from that first punch that split my lip.

I hadn’t known there was a noise coming from my mouth. Not until Steph knocked ( _tap, tap, tap_ ).

“Jay?” she said. “Are you okay?”

“I-I c-can’t b-breathe,” I sobbed. Suddenly the noise is reaching my ears and I _really_ can’t breathe. “Ste-eph, I-I ca-an’t b-breathe!”

“Dick!” Stephanie screamed. She leaned out into the hallway. “DICK! ALFRED! SOMEONE!!”

“Steph, why the hell are you screaming?” Dick barked, throwing his door open.

“Dick! Something’s wrong with Jason. He—he’s— _look_!”

He followed Steph to my bedroom. I was holding my stomach and my face was frozen in the ugliest cry I’d ever heard. Dick’s hands unclenched and his shoulders dropped, any remnants of anger flushing out of him. He rushed to my bed and gathered me up to his chest.

“Jay?” he whispered.

“I c-can’t bre-eathe, Dick! It h-hurts. So-o ba-ad!” I wailed, trying to cover my face or get away from him or something. I don’t know. “H-he ca-alled me-e a fa-ag. I—” I broke into another fit of sobs.

“Who? What happened, Jay?” Dick asked. Steph rocked on her heels and watched the way my chest’s rising became shallower and more labored.

“M-Mack.”

Dick’s breath caught in his throat. Subconciously, I ran my hands over my wrists, rolling the skin between my fingers.

“Who the fuck is Mack? Why the fuck is he putting his hands on you?! Why is he calling you a fag? Where does he live? I’ll beat the shit out of him I swear—”

“Dick,” Steph interrupted quietly. She leaned into his ear and whispered something. He looked back to me and quirked an eyebrow. I just nodded my head, knowing what she had told him.

Some coming out.

“I love … I loved him Dick. He … he …” I couldn’t collect myself enough to finish, instead broke another sobbing fit. Dick and Steph exchanged looks of worry.

“J-Jay?”

Tim’s voice. He stood in the doorway with his eyes stuck to me. Cassie came in behind him, lips sealed and Damien still asleep on her shoulder. They come forward in a clump, Cassie the guiding factor. They climb into my bed with Dick and gather around me. Holding me. Rocking me. Being with me.

“I’m gonna kick his ass for ya, Jay,” Tim said, voice low and too ridiculous to be threatening. I cracked a smile and laughed.

“Thanks kiddo,” I chuckled through a sob, letting little laughs slowly take over the crying.

“Yeah. Ass kicked,” Cassie agreed, softly, almost inaudible. Damien sighed loudly and rolled into Cassie’s chest.

“Damien’s in too,” Dick translated.

Steph and Tim nodded in approval. And settled in close to me.

We all slept like this and for a little bit, things didn’t feel different. Everyone seemed ok again.


End file.
